Cycling Chaos
by Gimme-Chan
Summary: New Chapter is up!  On Cybertron, different builds have different mating cycles. After being in status so long and given the differnce of Earth to Cybertron, all the cycles are thrown off and are overlapping. PxJ!
1. Chapter 1

**Cycling Chaos**

Plot Bunny taken from TF Bunny Farm:

_I know that there've been various bunnies and theories regarding seekers going through some manner of mating cycle and implying that other Cybertronians don't. Let's just say that's not the fact, each of the various build-types go through a mating/breeding cycle, but in normal circumstances the various cycles don't coincide at all (i.e. seekers going through it one span of time, tanks going through it after the seeker-cycle ends, trucks following that one, minis following that, etc.).Therefore it's just considered good manners to not discuss mating or breeding habits of other frame builds or your own when in mixed , considering that the Earth-bound Autobots and Decepticons were in stasis for several million years, circumstances are far from normal. Meaning that all the cycles are thrown off and the planetary conditions are just dissimilar enough from Cybertron to kick the mechs of both factions into their cycles either early or late, and causing overlap between the different builds._

**Warning: mech on mech**

* * *

**Chapter one**

**Restless**

* * *

He shifted restlessly in his seat once again.

Despite his almost constant moving and squirming to get comfortable in his chair, he was thankful the mech sitting across from him, working diligently on reports, took no notice. He didn't like the thought of having to lie to his friend should he be questioned on his restlessness. But the real explanation would have been embarrassing to explain.

He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck to try and help ease tension that had gathered there.

There was something very very very wrong with him.

Maybe he needed to see Ratchet.

Get his processor looked at….because there was no reason for the mech sitting across from him to go from being a good, tried and true friend for so many vorns, to suddenly being one of the most attractive mechs he'd ever laid optics on.

It wasn't suppose to work like this. Something was wrong.

Movement from the other mech caught his optic and drew his gaze over his own data pad so he could watch the physical manifestation of grace, that was his friend, once again.

Such simple movements.

Each one filled with a fluid grace that left his mind blissfully blank.

He watched that perfectly sculpted hand set the data pad on the desk. His fingers, those graceful arcs, curled to hold the stylus and his hand moved fluidly as he began writing various notes along side the report he worked on.

Setting the stylus down, he watched that hand reached for the cube of energon, the hand opened, fingers uncurled, as though beckoning to a lover. He picked the cube up and brought it to his lips as he used his other hand to continue scrolling through the report. Fingers caressing the data pad in a way that conjured up images of those fingers caressing him like that, arousing him, causing heat to build and pool in him.

And now...now he was going to drink from that cube of energon. There should have been nothing arousing about it but he could only stare, helplessly. Watching him take a drink was like watching him kiss.

Those perfect lips softly touched the cube and his world narrowed to nothing more than the sight in front of him. That hand tilted the cube and energon rushed to meet those perfect lips, he would have done the same if so invited.

The slight tilt of his helm as he parted those delicious lips, opening his mouth, allowing the energon entry. Entry he had not been so beautifully invited to.

And as the cube pulled away, where energon had touched his lips, there was left a coating. Aa bright sheen. Unable to help himself, his glossa flicked out to lick his own lips in the same manner he would like to lick the others.

Heat jolted through him and the dull ache of want nearly made him tremble.

When that cube of energon moved toward those lips again he knew he couldn't stay.

He'd do something rash, something stupid. Something that could permanently damage a friendship he held very dear.

He stood abruptly, drawing his friends attention to him. A frown playing over that oh so wonderful mouth, which he tried to ignore as he quickly gathered his work.

"Prowl? What're ya doin'? Where ya goin'?"

Prowl tried to contain the shiver that passed through him at the sound of that voice.

To think at one time he had thought Jazz's accent and improper language skills to be annoying. Why couldn't he think that now?

Prowl shook his head, refusing to look at Jazz, "I need to see Ratchet." Data pads filling his hands, he moved to walk past Jazz.

"What? Are ya ok? Do ya need any help or anythin'?"

He saw the slight movement of Jazz's hand, as though Jazz was about to reach out to help him, and panic rushed Prowl's processor.

_Oh dear Primus, do NOT let him touch me! I have little control over myself as it is! _

Again Prowl shook his head as he side stepped Jazz, speeding up his departure, "No, Thank you. Its just a…just a processor ache."

Prowl winced internally at his lie.

"But -"

"I'll be fine. Thank you…"

Prowl quickly stepped out and the door slid shut behind him.

He leaned against the cool smooth surface for a moment, breathing a sigh, before pushing away from the door and walked quickly to his quarters.

Once locked safely inside, away from the rest of the Ark, he tossed the data pads in his hands carelessly onto his berth and continued through his quarters to his private wash rack.

He turned on the water solvent mix full force, he didn't bother to adjust the temperature, ever thankful of the cold mixture as it slowly subdued the heat that had been building in him.

Shutting off his optics, he groaned and leaned his helm against the wall.

It was the third time this week alone he'd ended up in this exact same spot. He couldn't take much more of this.

He'd either go crazy or start crashing.

Maybe he really should see Ratchet…..

* * *

Jazz sat in the empty rec room, slouching in his seat, staring blankly at the cube of untouched high grade on the table before him.

There was no happy saboteur tonight. Jazz wasn't even sure he could muster a fake grin for anyone who happened to see him….not tonight.

He had screwed up.

He wasn't sure when or how but he knew he had none the less.

He kept going over and over their interactions this last week and he couldn't pinpoint the time he screwed up but Prowl's actions toward him let him know without a doubt, he had.

Prowl was talking to him less and less then he started making up excuses to quickly leave whatever room he was in as soon as Jazz made an appearance, and now...this.

This was the damning evidence of his screw up.

Prowl had _lied _to him.

He couldn't think of a instance in all the time they have known each other where Prowl had lied to him. There were times Prowl couldn't tell him all the information but he didn't lie.

After his shift was done, unable to keep Prowl from his thoughts, he had paid a visit to the MedBay. Wanting to drop in and see Prowl, "checking up" on him was the perfect excuse to spend more time with him because, Primus help him, he couldn't get enough of Prowl.

He craved Prowl's presence like nothing else, it didn't matter if they just sat in silence by one another, so long as Prowl was near him.

_He walked through the MedBay doors to see Ratchet look up from his med reports._

_"Jazz, what can I do for you?"_

_He strolled over to a med berth and leaned against it, looking around the MedBay,_

_"Oh, I'm fine, Ratch'. I was just stoppin' by ta see how Prowler was feelin'."_

_Ratchet gave a frown then quirked a brow at him,_

_"Prowl's not here."_

_"Oh, did ya send 'em back ta his quarters already?"_

_Ratchet shook his head,_

_"No….Prowl hasn't been in here today."_

_They stared at each other, Ratchet confused, Jazz shocked._

_Ratchet's optics and expression suddenly hardened,_

_"Why? Is something wrong with him? Is Prowl avoiding MedBay again? Because if he's pulling that slag-"_

_Jazz quickly shook his head and held up his hands in a placating manner,_

_"No, no, no! I….I just….thought he said somethin' about comin' down here…"_

_Ratchet's optics narrowed as he looked at Jazz._

_"I….." Jazz forced a laugh, "Hehe, ya know me, Ratch', I had my music on an' I was kinda only listenin' ta him with half a' audio."_

_He quickly began to back out of the MedBay, all the while Ratchet looked at him with suspicion,_

_"Hehe….so I'm sure I just wasn't hearin' 'em right."_

_"Jazz-"_

_"See ya!"_

Jazz heaved another big sigh, gloomy mood settling on him like a blanket.

If only he could pin point what had given him away, he could feed Prowl some believable explanation that would smooth over this whole situation and set things back on the path they had been.

Sighing once more, Jazz slouch back and down in his seat.

Until then he'd just have to make sure he was nothing but super friendly to Prowl, paling around with him like they had done for vorns. He would tread lightly and make sure he hid any and all signs of his desires.

It would do no good to further offend or disgust Prowl by letting it slip or show he would like nothing better than to get the doorwinged mech alone in a room and 'face the living daylights out of him.

Jazz leaned his helm back against the seat and stared at the ceiling.

Primus, this was messed up.

He was in love with his best friend, a PRAXI'N! It didn't make any fragging sense!

Jazz hauled himself out of his seat, grabbed the cube of high grade he had failed to touch and tossed it in the waste receptacle as he left the commons area.

Bringing up a hand to rub the back of his neck, he couldn't help but wonder if maybe he should go see Ratchet about this...

*****Authors Notes*****  
GAH! The plot bunnies won't leave me be! I keep beating them down but, man, those little buggers are strong!This is one that sat in my folder for a long while and the bunny recently bit...hard! Its a fun fic. Wonder who will break first...Anyway, I like the concept of this bunny and I'm just going to do JxP with it. However if theres anyone who wants to take this and write their own, there are sooo many pairings you could have fun with, please do! I'd love to see what people come up with. :) I was planning on this only being 2 but it may grow... Reviewing is always enjoyed! Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

An update! I know, I'm shocked too! :) LOL

Thanks to everyone who read and reveiwed and faved...I always greatly appreciate it!

Warnings: Mech on Mech, you know, the usual :)

* * *

**Cycling Chaos**

**Chapter 2**

* * *

Prowl sat behind his desk, hands gripped the arm rests of the chair as he stared blankly at the wall in front of him. His shift had ended a long time ago but he was unwilling to move. Unwilling to leave the safety of the small square room.

He was a near wreck. His ability to hold himself in a proper and composed manner was wearing thin.

He knew the source of his problem. Jazz.

His optics shifted from the wall to the door. If he walked through that doorway he was opening himself up to the possibility of disaster.

Jazz was somewhere beyond that door. Because he wasn't in Prowl's office. And if he wasn't here then he was out there…..waiting.

Waiting to catch up with Prowl and talk about their day. Oh, it sounded so innocent. It should have been innocent. But everything had gotten worse. In the span of a week everything was worse not better.

Now just the sound of Jazz's voice was enough to assault Prowl, letting loose wildly erotic fantasies which far too often followed him into recharge. His imagination held nothing back in those dreams and Prowl found himself on lining, frustrated, aching with want and need. Helpless to do anything about it.

Prowl gave up trying to get recharge, it only lead to the dreams. Ratchet would be furious if he knew Prowl had barely recharged in three days. And Prowl couldn't blame him, it really wasn't proper maintenance.

On top of that, he was really starting to feel the effects. He wasn't thinking as clearing as he use to. Though, if he were honest with himself, that could be because of Jazz too. The mech had a way of creeping into his thoughts and taking over. Demanding and receiving full attention without so much as a single word.

How every Jazz like.

Jazz could do the same thing in real life with a room full of mechs. He could dazzle and capture without casting a net. And if he really wanted to wow the on lookers, he'd dance. Loud obnoxious noise only made tolerable by the graceful, fluid movements of that sleek black and white frame. The way the light would hit his accent colors, just enough color to draw the optics along the line of his body. Almost made one want to reach out and touch….

Prowl shifted his gaze back to the blank wall. He really needed to stop thinking of Jazz. Find a cure to his unfounded infatuation. No good could come of this. If he continued along this path, he'd slip up and Jazz was bound to take notice, to find out. Primus, what would he think? Undoubtedly Jazz would be disgusted. A Praxian lusting after a Polyhexian….unheard of! And what if others found out…. Would he be the one laughed out and thought of as a freak? Or would they pick on Jazz? Laugh at and tease him for being the object of his rogue affections?

The turn out either way was unacceptable.

He need to do something constructive, take his mind from wondering and make his thoughts useful. He looked down at his desk to the stack of data pads, reports he'd yet to go over.

Work.

Work was good.

He activated the first data pad.

Ops report.

No good. Next one.

Ops report.

No. Next one.

Ops report.

No. No. No!

It was only after the fifth Ops report he activated did he recall sorting out all the Ops report earlier that week, when he'd been trying not to think of Jazz, and setting them aside to be done once he was...'better'.

His helm fell into his hands as he leaned heavily against the desk, venting a weary sigh.

It was going to be a loooooooooooooong night.

* * *

Jazz sat in the commons room. Off to the side and near the back. A nice little secluded spot where one could watch without really being noticed. And right now, Jazz didn't want to be notice.

He was waiting for Prowl.

Prowl had pretty much locked himself in his office for the past two days. Was doing everything in his power to avoid Jazz. Didn't want to see him, talk to him, or hear him.

And it hurt.

A lot.

Jazz could take no more. It ended tonight. He'd corner Prowl and drag from the elusive mech whatever it was he'd done or said to screw this all up. Then he'd tell a good, convincing lie (he had several already lined up) and he'd set it right. Then everything would be ok and Prowl would return to wanting to be around him and talking to him and they'd have energon in the commons room together again.

As long as Prowl didn't know the truth. Because if Prowl jumped from speculating to actually knowing.….. Jazz shuddered to think of Prowl's reaction, the depth of disgust he'd see etched on that handsome face. The revolsion in his deep blue optics. Prowl wouldn't tell anyone but the severed friendship, the silent rebuke Jazz knew he'd receive would pierce him deeper and sharper than any weapon in their arsenal. And that thought terrified him.

He had to set things right.

So, he watched the entrance to the commons room from his secluded spot. He'd been there for some time now, watching the ebb and flow of mechs. Watched as Sideswipe moped around the commons room for a good few hours, not talking to anyone, probably still upset over the big fight the day before with his twin. Jazz didn't know what it was about this time but apparently it'd been a big one.

Mirage had tried keeping him company, or given Mirage's strange mood, maybe he was meant to keep the spy company. Mirage had seemed uncharacteristically philosophical, trying to engage him in a discussion and gain his opinion about social norms, if such things existed, who created them, and who really had the right to judge what was normal and what was not. If Jazz hadn't been so preoccupied with his own problems, he would have poked a little deeper and tried to understand what was really troubling his friend.

Mirage finally paused and a silence stretched out between them before he asked,

"Who are you waiting for, Jazz?"

"Prowl."

Then Jazz had to look away. The word had come out with far more emotion attached to it than he'd intended. He prayed, prayed to Primus that Mirage, who knew him far too well, wouldn't read too much into that one emotion filled word. The silence between them seemed to throb before he heard Mirage give the softest laugh,

"I see."

Jazz looked back at his friend to find Mirage giving him a soft, if somewhat relieved smile,

"Well, Jazz, if you'll excuse me." The blue and white spy stood, that smile growing with an unspoken confidence, "I'm off to fight my own battle. I wish you luck with yours."

Jazz simply stared after his friend as he left the commons room. Battle? Strange, it wasn't really like Mirage to be so…..cryptic.

* * *

Prowl managed to plow through four of the reports before he realized how late it was….and how long it'd been since he'd refueled last.

The late hour was perfect. It meant no one would be around and he could get a cube of energon, refuel in the cool and quiet commons room before returning to the reports.

Prowl swiftly exited his office. It was only on the way to the commons room did he once again feel a little off thanks to the lack of recharge. He shook it off, telling himself fresh energon would help wake him up, stabilize him.

He walked through the door and headed for the energon dispenser. Filling a cube, he lifted the life giving substance to his lips and drank.

"Prowl."

Prowl jerked, choking on energon at the voice, THE voice that spoke his name from behind him.

"We need ta talk."

The cube slipped from shocked fingers, spilling the remains on the floor. No, talking was the last thing he wanted to do with Jazz. Talking simply meant he'd either dissolve into another fantasy or would simply present an opportunity to slip up and say what he shouldn't. He turned to Jazz, trying not to really look at him, forgetting the spilled cube of energon.

"Jazz….I….I'm sorry but now's not a good time. I-"

"No, now's the perfect time. We're both standin' right here. No one's around to interrupt us."

Prowl finally looked at Jazz. The smiling mech of memory was not same as the mech before him. Jazz wasn't smiling. His expression bordered on hurt.

_Frag, frag, frag…_

"Jazz….I…"

"You've been avoidin' me. Ah wanna know why."

Prowl shook his head,

"No…I've..I've just been busy….the reports…"

"Don' you lie ta me, Prowl. Ya been avoidin' me and Ah…Ah just want ya ta tell me what Ah did…ta make you avoid me."

Prowl berated himself. _Great, now Jazz is blaming himself for MY problems….frag. _

"Jazz, you haven't…..its…its…not-"

"Just tell me, Prowl, please."

"Jazz…"

"Prowl, you have ta tell me!"

Prowl could only shake his head at the near desperate plea in Jazzs voice. Jazz edged closer.

"Prowl, tell me! Ah can't make it right if ya don't tell me what Ah did wrong!"

Prowl firmly shook his head and quickly started walking for the exit.

"You've done nothing wrong."

Jazz reached out and grabbed Prowl's wrist as he passed, forcing Prowl to stop and face him. Jazz stepped close.

"Something's wrong. Cause nothings been right. And if it ain't me, Prowl….."

Prowl stared. Jazz's handsome face was etched with concern….and hurt. Hurt he'd unwittingly brought to him. This was his fault, if he'd just get a hold of his emotions and act normal around Jazz he wouldn't have caused all this.

Jazz's hand was warm where he gripped Prowl's wrist. Prowl's mind already calculating what those fingers would feel like against him, his arm, neck, his chest plate, and….lower. No….he needed to leave…NOW.

Prowl tried to take his hand back but Jazz held on and stepped closer, their chest plates almost touching. Prowl intakes hitched, his mind swam at the proximity.

"Prowl…"

It happened too fast for Jazz to react or for Prowl to stop it.

Prowl wrenched his wrist from Jazz's fingers, but not to escape. No, that would have made sense. Instead Prowl reached up with both hands and cupped Jazz's helm, holding him as he tilted his head and leaned in.

Prowl didn't just kiss Jazz. That would have been too simple an action, almost too shallow for the pent up emotions behind it. Prowl ravished Jazz's mouth. Pulling him close, bodies touching as Prowl unleashed, just for a moment, the whirlwind of emotions he'd been forcing down. It all almost seemed….inevitable. The end result no matter the precautions he took. And for that moment….it felt sooo good.

Then Prowl pulled back and the moment was gone. Shattered as crushing reality broke through and brought to light just how wrong his actions had been. The shocked look on Jazz's face, the utter lack of any response stood testament to just how wrong he had been.

Prowl let out a shaky breath as he released Jazz and stepped back.

"I'm sorry."

Another step back, then another. Jazz raised a hand to his mouth, his gaze unfocused.

Prowl shook his head, there was no undoing what he'd just done. No reasonable explanation he could give.

Jazz's gaze finally refocused on him.

Prowl could only continue to back away as he shook he head.

"I'm so sorry."

He turned and ran. Out of the commons room, down the hall, toward the Arks exit. Jazz's shocked face burned into his memory.

What had he done?

Stupid, stupid, impulsive action.

He'd ruined everything.

Everything.

* * *

*****Authors notes*****

Yeah, I got prodded about this fic and look! My muse was like "lets do it!" So here we go! Yes there will be a 3rd chapter! And maybe more…bunnies be bittin'! XD

As always, reading and review is so very loved!


	3. Chapter 3

Many have asked for it and here it finally is! Last chapter (at least for right now) of Cycling Chaos! (WOO HOO!)

Warnings: Mech on mech, slash, plug n play (brief)

"Normal talk"

::Commline::

* * *

Knowledge, Jazz decided, was a beautiful thing.

His hand once again found its way to his mouth, fingertips brushing over his lips. Tracing where Prowl had kissed him, as if by touching alone he could trap the sensations there, keep that feeling to experience again and again.

Beneath his fingers he felt his lips pull into a grin. He could make sense of the puzzle now, it was no longer a garbled mess. All the little abstract pieces connecting together, falling rapidly into place to form a whole complete picture.

And the picture was...beautiful.

Smiling to the point it almost hurt, Jazz left the commons room and for the first time in what felt like far too long, he was…happy. Tension drained from his body, leaving him elated, weightless. The urge to laugh bubbled up. The urge to talk, to sing, to dance.

It was like he'd been trapped in a tight dark room, suffocating slowly. And Prowl, with that one single impulsive move, had flung open the doors, reached in, and plucked him from the darkness.

Light, sound, and movement were his once more.

And as Prowl had done him the courtesy, so Prowl would be repaid in kind. He'd show Prowl the light and so much more.

* * *

Prowl drug himself to the commons room. His normally ridged posture slumped, proud doorwings now drooped, optics dim. Exhaustion weighting him down as stress ate away at him.

It'd been two days, two long exhausting days since…..since he'd lost control. Since he'd kissed Jazz. Two days spent avoiding the one mech he'd give anything right now just to sit next to. Just for things to go back to the way they had been.

Prowl had hoped that registering the shock on Jazz's face coupled with the ramifications he knew his actions would inevitably bring, ramifications he'd eventually have to face, would've been enough to jerk him out of this bizarre infatuation. Straighten him out.

If anything, it only made things worse!

Instead of coming to his senses, as he should have, his cortex latched onto that sweet moment when their lips met. Playing it over and over again in his mind. Sometimes adding on to it a little, other times slowing it down so the moment stretched out, consuming his senses and he could see and almost feel everything all over again.

Why was this happening? What was wrong with him?

Leaning against the energon dispenser Prowl filled a cube only partially full, no sense in wasting any. He hadn't been able to drink a full cube since he'd kissed Jazz. His own self disgust siphoning his appetite, adding to his exhausted state. Drinking what he knew he could, he set the now empty cube down on the counter and made his way over to one of the many couches lining the walls.

He flopped unceremoniously down on his back, doorwings spayed against the soft material. Stretching out, his head came to rest on the couch's cushioned arm. Dragging himself back to his quarters or his office seemed like too much work at the moment. He'd lay, recharge a bit then head back to his quarters.

Alone.

The hour was late, anyone who would be up was on shift, so no one would bother him. Which was good as the last thing he needed or wanted was to upset Bluestreak again with his mopey disposition. Or fire up Ratchet with his obvious self neglect.

Closing his optics, Prowl let out a long deep sigh. Forcing his mind blank as he focused on easing the tension from his frame so he could get some proper rest. He concentrated on relaxing everything. Starting with his neck, slowing working his way down his body till he finally found himself drifting on the edge of recharge.

It was a slight, gentle puff of warm vented air brushing against his face that alerted him. Someone was close….real close. He wasn't alone anymore.

Bluestreak?

Flicking his optics on, Prowl found himself gazing up into an all too familiar crystalline blue visor.

Logically, he knew this moment of confrontation would inevitably happen and that, logically, he needed to face it so he could scrape together whatever remained of their friendship, if there _were_ any remains, and move forward. Emotionally, he was neither ready nor wanting this confrontation and felt only one panicked word push through and consume his processor.

Run!

Prowl moved to scramble off the couch but two black hands gripped his shoulders and forced them back, laying him flat on the couch and holding him there.

"Think ya been runnin' long enough, Prowl. Think it's time we talked."

Prowl stared helplessly up into the visor, his vision expanding to include Jazz's somber face.

No smile greeted him. He…..shouldn't have expected one. No after what he's done. And Jazz was right, he'd been run enough. Time to face reality. Time to deal with the fall out of his actions.

Jazz didn't look happy and Prowl couldn't blame him.

He relaxed against the couch, signaling to Jazz he wasn't going to run. Yet the saboteur's hands remained firmly on his shoulders, Jazz's weight pinning him. The symbolic nature of it hit him hard.

Jazz no longer trusted him.

It hurt. It really hurt. Made even worse when he acknowledged that he, his own actions, had brought about that distrust. That he…deserved this.

Jazz's face was serious, intent, a frown tugging at his mouth. He seemed to be in rather deep thought, debating with himself. His hands on Prowl's shoulders gripped tighter, fingers curling in. Like he wanted to make a fist.

That made sense. Prowl could only guess at the amount of justified anger coursing through Jazz right now. And he, the target.

"If you want to hit me, Jazz, I won't stop you."

Jazz looked…surprised. The seriousness suddenly melted away, replaced by something Prowl would almost want to classify as amusement. But that seemed out of place given the gravity of the situation. Jazz's mouth trembled then one corner tilted up in what was definitely amusement. Jazz shook his head.

"Ain't gonna hit ya."

"You have every right to. The boundaries I've over stepped."

"Prowl-"

"The gross liberties I took."

"Prowl-"

"Have you reported my harassments to Prime, yet? You should. What I did was wrong."

Jazz suddenly laughed, shaking his head. "Oh, frag this, words ain't gonna work."

Prowl panicked, reaching up with one hand, grabbing Jazz's arm. Fearing he would leave, walk away, taking any chance of reconciliation, however small, with him. Prowl opened his mouth to…to….

He wasn't sure. Ask, plead, beg Jazz to talk this out with him. Foolishness. He had no right to ask anything of Jazz.

But Jazz wasn't pulling away.

In a move that was all to fast for Prowl to follow in his exhausted state, Jazz suddenly leaned in. Lips capturing his own as Jazz's mouth claimed his, hard. It happened so suddenly, so unpredictably, Prowl felt the twinge of his overtaxed processor wanting to crashed.

This was…unbelievable. It was like one of his recharge fantasies playing itself out while he was online.

Maybe it was.

Maybe he really was in recharge and this was all a wonderful, wonderful dream.

When he felt Jazz's glossa press past his lips, he let go and closed his optics. Reality, dream, he didn't care anymore. He just wanted Jazz.

His hand slid up Jazz's arm to curl around his neck, pulling him closer. His other hand rose to stroke along the curve of a waist before sliding his hand across the small of Jazz's back, pressing the saboteur into him, vents working hard.

Jazz gave an almost pained groan at the feel of Prowl wrapped his arm around his waist and pulling him down. Tugging gently till Jazz finally settled on top of him.

It was almost in complete synchrony their hands began to explore. Prowl's mapping out the body above him, fingers and palms taking in every smooth angle and plane, every sloping surface.

Jazz's hands moved firm and hungry, finally able to touch what had seem impossibly out of reach. Those curious black hands finally found trembling doorwings and stroked across their glossy expanse, fingers pulling teasingly along the edge. Prowl shuddered almost violently beneath him, his body seeming to curl up around Jazz as he groaned.

Prowl's expert hands traced the body above him, finding sensitive seams, fingertips teasing along their length before dipping in to graze wires and sensor nodes, leaving Jazz to squirm against him, nipping playfully at his lips.

This had to be real, Prowl knew he didn't have this kind of imagination.

A part of him want to call a time out, put this on pause and think all this over. It didn't make sense. A Praxian and a Polyhexian? Who ever heard of such an odd pairing?

But some other part of him, some stronger instinctive part, urged him on. Urged him to drink in the warmth of the frame above him, to relax, to enjoy the feel of silky plating beneath his fingers, to thrill at Jazz's touch.

For the first time, in probably his whole life, Prowl pushed aside logical thought and gave in to instinct.

And Jazz felt it. A sudden, subtle shift in Prowl and everything opened up to him. Prowl wasn't holding back anymore. That meant, at least on some level, Prowl was accepting the situation.

Good. That would make Jazz's next move all more appreciated.

He smoothed his hands in along the broad side of Prowl's doorwings, fingers brushing lightly against the junction where Prowl's doorwings met his back. He fought not to grin against Prowl's mouth as he slid his fingers into the joint, pressing on sensor nodes.

The reaction was immediate.

Prowl tore himself from the kiss, helm slamming back, his back arched off the couch. Hands gripping fiercely at Jazz. He keened, writhering, gasping beneath a mirrored black and white body.

"Jazz…how…"

Jazz chuckled wickedly as he slid his mouth to Prowl's throat. "Did a little research."

Prowl shivered beneath him again as his hands glided up the body above him. Caressing up Jazz's black helm, elegant fingers encircling the sensory horns, squeezing. Drawing from Jazz a guttural moan.

Prowl felt his mouth actually pull into the slightest of smiles. "As did I."

Words were forgotten after that. They used hands, lips, glossa, the weight and pressure of their bodies to express what words could only clutter up and dull.

The charge between them built, surging. Fingers dug into seams, pulling, tweaking wires. Each racing to push the other over the nearing pinnacle of overload.

Jazz, in a blind moment of his own impulsiveness, sought out Prowl's data port and plugged in. Prowl gasped, white hands tightening on Jazz as their systems linked.

They lost themselves. In the shuttering ecstasy of overload, they lost themselves, neither able to tell for one blissful moment where one ended and the other began.

It was beautiful. Even as the white pleasure faded and color returned to their vision, they clung to one another. Jazz settling against Prowl as Prowl weakly snuggled back against the couch.

They drifted, for a time, on the haziness that followed overload. Just gently touching each other, fingertips lazily tracing seams.

Happy.

Sated.

Complete.

Until they fell into recharge.

* * *

"I found them, Ratchet. They're in the commons room."

::I'm going to take a wild guess and say that when you tell me "they're in the commons room" you don't mean they're sitting there like good little officers drinking their energon.::

Optimus ducked his head, hiding a grin that was already hidden by his face mask.

"You would be correct, Ratchet."

A long suffering sigh sounded over the comm link.

Optimus chuckled. "Look on the bright side, Ratchet. At least Prowl didn't lock himself and Jazz in his office. Unlike a certain Security Officer."

::You know it's going to take days to convince him to come out. Not that Inferno being locked in there with him is helping the matter any. Primus! I'm the slagging medic and yet no one, NO ONE, ever thought or bothered to come to me and say "Hey Ratchet, I've been feeling kind of funny and off, care to take a look?" NO! That's just too easy! After all, I'm only the medic. What do I know?::

Another long suffering sigh sounded across the comm line as Optimus quietly retreated from the commons room, not wanting to wake the new found lovers.

::I wonder if the Decepticons are having the same troubles.::

"Well, if the rather flattering communication I received from Starscream is any indication, I'd say yes."

::Primus help us all.::

Optimus just chuckled, shaking his head as he walked down the hall.

* * *

Authors notes

And there you have it! Thank you guys for reading and commenting and faving. Reading and reviewing is always loved and welcomed! :)


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